Casting Large Shadows
by ThePersonUnknown
Summary: He is not a PATIENT man, never has been, but sometimes he wonders if having patience could've changed the path of fate he had wandered, perhaps he could've been a little gentler, a little understanding, maybe things would be difficult. But his father had always out shadowed those thoughts.


He is not a patient MAN, never has been, but sometimes he wonders if having patience could've changed the path of fate he had wandered, perhaps he could've been a little gentler, a little understanding, maybe things would be difficult. But his FATHER had always out shadowed those thoughts.

From a wee age he had always been taught that doubt is the cause of destruction, to question the past is to destroy the future. And so in the dwellings of his own mind, his smile bright and jubilant, golden crested armor hanging proudly from his form, he doesn't allow doubt to take away the glory his friends say he deserves, he ignores the darkness shadowed at the east end of the castle, the red tinge to his MOTHER'S eyes and the slight garble when she speaks, as if her voice is over wrung with the need to cry. He forgets the empty seat opposite him, and doesn't allow an inkling of sadness to mar his victory, for that is surely what this is... Victory. He is Thor Odinson, guardian of the nine realms, prince of Asgard, and he has victoriously vanquished the shadows which threatened to overturn the happiness of his father, the doubtless, steady state of his mind, he has vanquished that evil.

It must be a victory, for celebration was held in his honor, and his friends readily SUPPLIED their congratulations, gifts were given in tribute to his return, why would all these things pass if this was not in fact a victory.

He will not allow this disgusting inkling of pain to bloom further, and so festers it into anger and hatred, for it is easier to hate than to love, it is easier to see this present as a victory won, than a treasure lost.

Yet, as usual, his return is greeted with one less a person than expected, or is he really surprised that his mother is not there to grace him with a gentle smile, for when last did she do that, in this bitter fate he had strung upon them, him and his father, they had eloquently weaved this reality to ensure only they came up victoriously, why was he surprised to walk into that Throne room and be forced to face the bitter loneliness fate had cloaked over his shoulder.

But ever a boy at heart, he had sought out her presence, under the pretense of seeking that of his father, because he had hoped that perhaps his absences had softened her mourning features, perhaps the pain had faded as his had.

It is no surprise to find her in her chambers, surrounded by her ruins and the gentle hum of the Asgardian winds. She had always been soft, calm, never one to wander the castle in excitement. she, like another he once knew, preferred the comfort of her walls and the warmth of her books and LINEN. He liked to believe that perhaps one day he would be blessed with a queen like her, one who didn't wither with the ages, one who still loved despite the knives embedded into her heart.

But his musings are halted still because she is not alone, her HANDS are reached out in yearning, like a lioness reaching desperately to draw her cubs close to her bosom, and even before his eyes lift, he knows who her hands are outstretched to, and it sends a feeling of bitter confusion through his heart, he can't help feeling betrayed that she is rather here than coming to greet the son who has not turned his back to her, but behind this anger is that same poisonous doubt which he festers into hate, because it is easier to hate than to love those who's hearts are cold and unresponsive.

He has no brother, he made that choice, and with each passing day he feels his mother is leaving him as well.

He is sick of watching the scene before him, sick of seeing those same venomous, emerald eyes which gazed at him with hatred and a unjustified look of hurt, yet now they gaze pained and vulnerable to the woman who he should never have the right to see again. These thoughts bring a feeling of satisfaction, a foreign feeling of spite to his mind as he further enters the warm ROOM, his heavy footsteps drawing the attention of the one he sought out.

"You still see good in him, don't you?" His words HOLD a light mockery to them, as if he is teasing her foolish sentiment, gazing upon it as one might a childish tendency, with humor and irritation. Her body riveted quickly, a smile plastering across her watered eyes as she tried to sway her eldest from the fading image of her fallen son, but even she cannot help but feel a sadness at the look of tired irritation upon his growing, rugged features.

"Welcome HOME My Son." She said, stepping forward sweetly, hands folded neatly behind her back as she swayed her body innocently, taking a stance of curiosity, as if she had not just been seen conversing with a prisoner, knowing full well her husband had forbidden all contact,

He sighs as he steps closer to her, noting the significant height difference between them, ignoring the resentment it built, because he could no longer burrow into her chest and seek the comfort of her voice as he once did a child, he never truly realized the curse of growing up until now, when it was too late to turn back TIME.

"Why must you indulge him mother, all these GIFTS, visits..." He knows about it all, because once he had foolishly indulged the notion that Loki was reachable, that he was not as venomous and selfish as he portrayed, but the scars beneath and embedded into his skin say otherwise. Besides, what are the notions of his wishful mother compared to all of Asgard and the all father, surely she cannot be right where all of them are wrong, so why is she still here, why does she persist to abandon her remaining son, in hopes of saving the boy who refused to come home, why did that feeling festering in his own chest refuse to be put out, was he too foolish enough to still hold a lingering love.

She smiled, bowing her head as she led him away from that section of the room, a sincere smile upon her gentle features, he couldn't help but FOLLOW despite his want to have her explain her actions, explain how she could still look at the other with anything other than anger, it was beyond him. She had a teasing lilt to her expression as she glanced up at him.

"I think if you ask the guards, I believe they will tell you that I was never there." She said, grinning, her hands wrapping over his arm as they walked to the balcony and for a brief second she looked almost childlike, her aging lines falling away under the tender expression, something she was good at, and for a moment he thought that perhaps giving her this small allowance, this sliver of happiness amongst the broken ruins of her family, was he cruel to tear away this one treasure she still kept close. But he had learnt to let go, he had learnt to not love the one who had torn his heart to pieces, why could she not do the same, it was for the best.

He leant in, frowning.

"Mother, Loki is not the boy you once knew." The words were bitter and harsh, and he ignored the way her smile weakened, her eyes glancing away as she swallowed her pain, ignoring such things were normal, he had no one to aide him when he had faced the emotional turmoil of realization, she would face the pain alone as well and learn to cope.

But instead her eyes enlightened with renewed passion, turning on him with vigor of a woman willing to battle to her last breath for a belief she alone stood for.

"Nor are you" She said, lips thin as she spoke strongly, "Yet I loved you no less when your father banished you to earth." They were unspoken, her words of comparison, but he heard them loud and clear.

"Why should I love Loki any less, simply because your father has banished him to isolation."

His jaw tightened as he glanced down, trying to find fault in her words and growing frustrated when no fault could be found, Loki was banished because he was greedy and cruel and selfish and could not be reasoned with, Thor was banished because...

His throat tightened and he blanked his mind, ignoring the growing guilt, trying to ignore the comparisons between the two. He quickly jumped away from the topic, turning back to her.

"Do you ever regret sharing your magic with him?" The bright rays of sunlight shone across their skin, warming them, but it did nothing to dissuade the darkness which lingered inside. Each step they took; drew them closer and closer outside, away from the suffocating walls, but he remained watching her as she pursed her lips, turning to him and smiling.

"No." It was a final answer, without hesitance, but he waited for more, and more came, her eyes casting away and becoming distant, the smile fixed yet it held no true warmth to it, as if she had learnt to plaster the expression naturally to her face.

"You and your father cast large shadows..." His eyes widened as her words struck a memory in his mind, bringing him back to midgaurd, finding him standing upon the darkened cliff-face, facing a worn and beaten opponent, the words echoing in his mind distantly, awakening an old pain he had learnt to bury.

"I remember a shadow..."

His heart throbbed at the ghostly words, as they rooted in his mind, growing louder with Frigga's affirmation. But even he, as mighty as he was, could not deny.

"Living in the shade of your greatness."

He had thrown the accusation to the side, casting them away as another sign of Loki's jealousy and dramatics, never considering the truth behind them, but here he stood with the woman who would not lie of such things, yet here she stood resurfacing those forgotten words, and shoving them back into his face.

He had been cruel, had been eager to slaughter an entire RACE to subdue them, it had been so long ago, he couldn't imagine being that boy again, he had been arrogant, cruel and greedy, and even in the midst of that, he held the glory and praise of his people, the crown had been his, his punishment had been banishment, he had been offered a life on midguard, there was no isolation, no judgment, not scorn.

Loki had done the same as him, but he held the bitterness and hatred, now here they both stood, two sides of the same COIN, both similar, yet one held glory and power, the other held loneliness and hatred. He had been given the chance to change, the chance to learn and redeem himself, had Loki?

"I had hoped, that by sharing my magic with your brother, he might find a little sunlight for himself." He couldn't help but chuckle, although the sound held no humor to it, its purpose was to hide the pain blooming inside of him, the urge to crumble under the doubt and guilt which threatened to tear him to pieces. What glory had Loki found in the gifts their mother had given them? What sunlight had he gained in their life, other than the burning of accusation and belittlement, every time his gifts had been stood upon by Thor and his comrades, he had only gained praise through his mother, and even then, that had broken him down, by all of Asgard and by their father, every instance rushed upon him like an unstoppable wave, and it caused pain to well up inside of him, this time Mjolnir deemed useless against the SHADOWS his own guilt and pain was creating.

But looking to the side, his mother stood silent and still, her eyes WATCHING the still sky, all he could see was the redness embedded into her eyes, a wet trail on her cheeks from the countless tears she had shed, and for the first time he realized, that she had watched the realms break down her youngest child, had heard their snide remarks and venomous accusations.

But only she had been the one who remembered the pain of a small child, after being bullied for his magic, the confusion of a boy for not being as big and as strong as the boys around him, the ridicule and growing anger inside a young heart, only she had been the one to NOTICE, and now only she remained to try and patch together the broken pieces of a man who had been broken down by his own kingdom.

Thor couldn't help but feel like he was WATCHING her from realms away.


End file.
